


Pull Me In Once Again

by goldenheadfreckledheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenheadfreckledheart/pseuds/goldenheadfreckledheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BFF prompt fill: Actor!bellarke based on the River Island Autumn/Winter 2015 ad.</p><p>*</p><p>It’s hard for Clarke to feel lucky about landing an easy job when she finds out that her romantic co-star is a certain dark-eyed, curly-haired, snarky-grinned actor who she’s more familiar with than she ever thought she would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull Me In Once Again

**Author's Note:**

> Video insp [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foXClcW8JpI)!

 Clarke doesn’t hate Valentine’s Day. Really. She never latched onto the whole _I’m-angry-because-everyone’s-happy-and-I’m-alone_ thing. Not that she doesn’t get it, but it doesn’t tend to bug her much, being single, especially considering her past relationships. So Valentine’s Day is fine.

This February, though, she might have to eat those words, and it’s only the 5th.

She shouldn’t be complaining. Working as an actress in LA is no walk in the park, and she is _lucky_ —she reminds herself for the twelfth time—to have booked this commercial. It’s just a short make out scene for the clothing brand’s fall line, set to broadcast on the 14th, hence the romantic angle. Compared to other gigs she’s landed—dry, drawn out dialogues, scenes where she’s had to tear up on command—this is pretty basic.

Except it’s a hard to feel lucky about landing the easy job when she finds out that her romantic co-star is a certain dark-eyed, curly-haired, snarky-grinned actor who she’s more familiar with than she ever thought she would be.

She and Bellamy Blake have been running the same audition circuit for nearly a year, and they’ve somehow become almost pleasant acquaintances. Which is kind of miracle if you consider that they actually got _kicked out_ —there were security guards and everything—of the first audition they’d both attended. She’s still not quite sure how it started, but it definitely ended with both of them out on the curb in the surprisingly chilly LA weather, too hot-headed to stop arguing about whether the director was a sexist asshole or just a generally dick-ish one. (“It’s not my fault you didn’t notice how he was _leering_ at you.” “Oh, so I’m naïve _and_ getting hired just for my looks? And here I thought I only had _one_ thing going for me.”)

But then, a few months later, they’d both been cast—separately, which she hedges played a major factor—for a short web series, meaning they had to interact on a daily basis without tearing off heads. (Not that it was explicitly spelled out in the contract, but she just kind of figured.) Which is how she grudgingly comes to realize that Bellamy is actually an incredible actor, when he’s not being a dick. She might not admit it to his face, but she would bet a good amount of money that he’s going to make it big in the industry soon.

She also has to admit that he’s only a dick on accident, most of the time. And that he’s ridiculously attractive, but that doesn’t have any bearing on her opinion of him. Or it _shouldn’t_ anyway.

She’s only human.

So she’s _almost_ happy to see him walk through the studio door the day of the shoot. _Almost_ happy when he flashes her a crooked smile as their eyes catch. She’s verging on smiling as they make small talk before the shoot starts, right up until she realizes that she has to _kiss_ him. _Bellamy Blake._

Which makes her freak out for exactly 5 seconds before she reminds herself that she’s a fucking _professional_ and that this is a screen kiss, as opposed to other kinds of kissing that she should definitely not be thinking about.

But her body’s a fucking traitor and there are butterflies in her chest when Cage calls action.

* * *

 

As it turns out, her worry is all for naught, considering that they’re now _2 hours_ into the shoot and have yet to lock lips, on account of the fact that Cage (Surely there’s more to his name? Who names their child _Cage?)_ isn’t ‘ _feeling_ ’ their chemistry.

“Cut!” he calls again, voice grating against the soft indie backtrack, hands flying. “No! I’m not buying it. Let’s go again.”

Clarke can feel the grind of her teeth in her skull, and she’s pretty sure she feels Bellamy tense in frustration where her hand rests on his arm.

…his _very impressive_ arms. Which she should definitely not be noticing considering how irritated she is right now.

They try the scene other ways. Once with fucking leaves flying past their faces. Once where he’s lying down and she slips her hand into his hair, relishing the feeling between her fingers before tugging his mouth up to hers. Once where he walks her backward until the backs of her knees collide with a bed and he presses her down into the mattress, lips blissfully close to hers and _surely_ this time will be the one because her heart is pounding so—

“Cut! No! This is still…,” Cage pauses, like he doesn’t actually have a reason anymore. He frowns deeply at the pair of them. “This is all wrong. Let’s take five and regroup.”

Bellamy lets out an exasperated breath. She feels it puff across her cheek before he crawls off of her and offers her a hand. She takes it gratefully and follows him when he walks toward the couch next to craft services. He sinks into it with a sigh.

“This is dumb,” she says, flopping down next to him. “We have _excellent_ chemistry.”

He turns to her, looking sincerely curious. “Yeah?”

She whacks his shoulder. “ _Yes_. We’re both great actors. Is the great Bellamy Blake doubting himself?”

He smiles, playful. “No, I just didn’t ever think I’d hear you say that we have _excellent chemistry.”_

She blushes and hits him again. “And here I thought you’d progressed past a 7th grade maturity level.”

He continues to smirk at her.

She groans. “I just meant that we’ve worked together before. We have compatible acting methods. Plus we’re both passably attractive.”

“Passably attractive,” he scoffs, under his breath as he looks away from her.

Clarke grins, happy to take a good-natured stab at his ego. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to criticize your beloved good looks.”

But then he hardly reacts and she’s… kind of confused. That should have made him laugh, or glare, or _something_.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean me,” he says, casual, dropping his head back against the couch. “You really think our acting styles are compatible?”

It’s extremely hard to ignore the former comment—because what does she _do_ with that?—but she manages a sufficiently blank face.

“Sure,” she says with a shrug, leaning back as well, mirroring him. “We play off each other, trust each other. We know how to make a scene engaging. You thought all those takes were good, right?” She chances a look at him and grins again when she catches the color at his cheeks.

“Yeah.” He coughs. “Of course. We followed all of his directions, and all of them felt… I don’t know, _natural._ ”

“Agreed,” she says, still smiling. “Which means it’s a problem with Dickbag Cage, not us.”

Bellamy grins, finally, and it’s stupid to deny that his smile is basically her favorite thing. “Is that his first name? I’ve been wondering.”

“Yeah, but keep it quiet. I hear he’s sensitive about it,” she says with a laugh. But she grows serious a second later. “Also he’s paying us, so we probably shouldn’t criticize him to his face.”

Bellamy groans. “I’ve never been more thankful for a single-day shoot in my _life._ ”

Clarke’s about to respond in agreement, but she’s struck by a sudden burst of sadness, which is totally insane. She should want to get out of here as soon as possible. She should be counting down the minutes, _seconds,_ ‘til the end of the day.

But she hasn’t had the chance to work with Bellamy much at all since the web series and she’s finding that she kind of misses it.

As awful as the day has been, there have also been spots of brightness. Moments between takes spent trying make each other laugh at dumb jokes, or just exchanging looks of frustration while Cage talks at them, on and on.

“I wish we did more stuff together,” she says, impulsive, and tries not to hold her breath.

He stiffens so slightly that she half thinks she imagined it.

“Yeah. Me too,” he says after a second, voice gruff and low.

She realizes, belatedly, that she didn’t articulate that they should do more _acting_ stuff together, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care, and she feels hopeful warmth bloom in her chest.

…Until it’s cut off by Cage’s grating voice, calling them back to set. She offers Bellamy a hand up this time.

* * *

 

“We’re back to basics this time, folks,” Cage says, projecting like he’s talking to the whole crew, when it’s clearly a pointed comment. “No props, no intricate staging. We’re going to cut down on distractions and just focus on the _acting_.”

Very pointed, apparently. She rolls her eyes at Bellamy and watches his lips quirk.

The scene is simple. Literally all she has to do is stand in front of Bellamy (like a love-struck idiot? yeah, check) and hesitate a second before sliding a hand around his neck to pull him in. It’s even easier for Bellamy; All he has to do is stand there, look at her adoringly—making her heart beat faster, but that’s hardly his fault—and get kissed. Or… _not_ get kissed, seeing how the rest of their takes have gone.

She makes it through exactly two more calls of “Cut and go again! Like you _mean_ it this time, people,” and she’s pretty proud of herself for even making it that far.

The third time he stops the scene, all the elements of the day sort of comes to a head for her. She’s pissed at Cage for being such an awful director and she’s starting to admit that she likes Bellamy more than she ever thought she would. And he’s _here_ and _close_ and she can feel his pulse under her fingertips so she decides to take that last step past the realm of annoyance to land her squarely in the province of _fuck it._

The scene is on hold, but they’re still standing in position, her hand on Bellamy’s neck, ready to pull him in before Cage called it, _again._ So with the hand not resting on Bellamy’s neck, she turns his face back toward her—gentle but insistent—to purposefully catch lips with hers. He responds without hesitation, melting against her, one hand bracing at her waist before sliding up into her hair, drawing her even closer. She sighs into his mouth. It’s better than she hoped. And better than any staged kiss, because she knows this isn’t for the cameras.

Somewhere in her muddled thoughts, she hears Cage yelling—“I said _cut_!”—but she’s a little preoccupied with Bellamy’s tongue, tracing her bottom lip, as she tosses both of her arms around his neck.

* * *

 

That’s the first time they get kicked out of a booked job together—and hopefully the last, because they need all the gigs they can get—but she’s willing to count this one as a success. She did get a boyfriend out of it, after all.


End file.
